


Two-Step

by sabinelagrande



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has Two Penises (Good Omens), Double Penetration in Two Holes, M/M, if you want a box hurled into the sun you gotta do it yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: There are things Crowley can change, and things Crowley cannot change.





	Two-Step

For very specific reasons, Crowley has never penetrated anyone. This hasn't bothered him, typically. Being penetrated is great, in any way Crowley can think to do it. Many people, angels, and demons have never done and will never do any penetrating, and they're fine.

It's just that Crowley is pretty deep into this thing with Aziraphale. Aziraphale has gotten pretty deep into him, if you follow, but sometimes when Aziraphale comes apart around Crowley's fingers, he aches to know what it would feel like around more sensitive parts of his body.

But his reasons are, again, very specific. 

And he lets them simmer for a long time.

Crowley is a champion at doing things like that. He sat on how he felt about Aziraphale for millennia, even if it feels now like he was shouting it out the entire time. The fact that it only takes him a few months before he cracks on this particular topic makes it really quite expedient.

Crowley reaches the bookshop just as it's closing; Aziraphale is actually on the other side of the door, preparing to lock it.

"I'm afraid we-" Aziraphale starts automatically. "Oh, hello."

Crowley pushes past him, setting the bag he's carrying down on Aziraphale's desk. "I need to tell you something, and I need to be drunk when I do it."

"Liquid courage?" Aziraphale asks, locking the door now that Crowley is inside.

"Let's call it that," Crowley says. He pulls a bottle of gin out of the bag, cracks it open, and takes a swig.

"I'll get some glasses," Aziraphale says dryly, and Crowley pours himself over the couch.

"You were going to tell me something," Aziraphale says, an hour and a half later, when Crowley has put down most of the bottle. There was also a bottle of riesling in the bag, and Aziraphale has been drinking that instead, slower but still at a good clip.

"You see, the thing is," Crowley says, hanging over the arm of the sofa. "I'm a snake. Not so bad, being a snake. Basking's nice. Feels good to shed. But some snake things I can't change when I'm all human-like."

"Like the eyes," Aziraphale says, indicating his own with two fingers.

"Yeah, exactly," Crowley says, seizing on it. "Big yellow eyes, no matter what I do. But it also affects my, um."

"Yes?" Aziraphale prompts.

"My, ah, well," Crowley says, waving his hand around. "You know, my gentleman's area."

"You can say prick," Aziraphale says, because of course he does.

"See, I can't," Crowley says hesitantly. "I've got two of them."

Aziraphale's brow furrows. "Two pricks?"

"Hemipenes," Crowley says. "Can't do anything about it. That's why I've only ever shown you my cunt."

"Oh," Aziraphale says, eyes wide. "I thought you just liked being penetrated."

"I do, definitely, you know me, always here to get fucked," Crowley says quickly. "But I, ah, I thought maybe it would be nice the other way sometimes." He panics. "Unless you don't like being penetrated, you probably don't, forget I said anything-"

"Crowley," Aziraphale says, in that way he has that can make Crowley calm down. "Is it-" He holds up two unsteady fingers, spread out horizontally. "Or is it-" He turns them, aligning them vertically.

"The former," Crowley says.

Aziraphale holds up his other hand, and with a lot of effort, he bends his first finger and puts his middle finger and thumb together, giving him two spaces. He studies this arrangement for a moment before turning it to the side. "So I would have to go like this," he says, thrusting his fingers through the spaces on his opposite hand.

"I suppose you would," Crowley says, because what else is there to say. "Wait, wait, wait. You sound like I asked you to take both of them."

"Why else would it be a problem?" Aziraphale says.

Crowley just stares at him for a moment. "I have two dicks."

"Yes, I heard you," Aziraphale says patiently. "Unless you wanted me to, I don't know, take one and stroke the other one? Because that's just normal sex with another bit hanging off."

"If you want them both, then by fuck you'll have them," Crowley says, still perplexed but not missing his chance.

"It seems like a criminal waste not to use it to its fullest," Aziraphale says. He gets a coy look on his face, which, as usual, fools no one. "Can I see them? I'm too tipsy for anything that acrobatic, but I wouldn't mind meeting them."

"What can it hurt," Crowley says, undoing his fly as Aziraphale gets up and sinks to his knees at Crowley's feet. Crowley has nothing under his clothes right at the moment, because this is not at all how this was supposed to go. He lets his body shift, sighing as both his cocks appear. He's kind of missed the stupid things, having had no use for them in a good while; they're far too much for tight trousers. 

"My word," Aziraphale says, sounding fascinated, and he grabs them both without so much as an invitation. 

"Ngk," Crowley says, startled; he hasn't had them back thirty seconds, and he's never had this kind of attention shown to them.

"Sorry, my dear," Aziraphale says, not letting his cocks go. Instead he starts to stroke slowly, like he's trying them out, experimenting. "How do they feel?"

"Right now?" Crowley says. "Amazing. In comparison to one cock, no idea."

"I shall have to try them both," Aziraphale says, and he licks the head of the left one. Crowley makes a noise that is definitely not a whimper. Aziraphale licks the right one next, but he seems dissatisfied with this somehow. Crowley's eyes cross as Aziraphale brings them together, close enough that he can lick the two slender heads at the same time.

"Oh, that's much better," Aziraphale says, before taking them both into his mouth. They're long, but narrower than a normal cock; put together, they're enough to stretch Aziraphale's mouth obscenely but not enough to make this impossible. 

"Won't last," Crowley warns him.

"Oh, I know," Aziraphale says, pulling off. "Remember the first time you sucked me?"

"Intimately," Crowley says.

"So you just enjoy it and come as soon as the spirit moves you," Aziraphale says, and he goes back down again. The feeling is mindblowing, his hot mouth, tongue sliding around and in between. Crowley's never felt anything like it before; he hasn't even masturbated with his cocks, being a little too embarrassed by the whole thing to find it pleasurable. But Aziraphale isn't showing the least bit of hesitation, just rolling with it because he wants to please Crowley. Crowley is never, ever going to get over that.

Crowley doesn't realize until he's on the point of coming that he doesn't know how it's going to happen. The uneasiness of the thought pulls him back from the brink a little bit, even though Aziraphale seems not to realize at all. He and Aziraphale are about to find out at the same time, and all Crowley can think to do is put a hand on the back of Aziraphale's head and curse at the ceiling.

His left cock comes first, and Crowley shouts. It feels different than coming has ever felt before, though oddly similar at the same time. This is only a brief thought that he has, because his actual attention is focused on Aziraphale's mouth around him, the sensation as he hits the edge, almost too much. He thrusts up blindly, and Aziraphale just lets it happen, sucking Crowley down until he's spent.

Aziraphale finally pulls back, and Crowley has no idea what to say. 'Thank you' is the only thing he can think of, even though he still feels like he's not quite there yet, the need still pulling at him.

"Oh, you're not quite done," Aziraphale says, thumbing the head of Crowley's right cock, and Crowley makes a noise that's awfully like a whine. 

"I-" Crowley says, and nothing else comes out.

"Don't worry, dear, I've got you," Aziraphale says, taking it into his mouth and sucking hard.

Crowley lasts barely any time at all; it _does_ something to him, Aziraphale's consideration, the way he cares so much about Crowley's satisfaction and treats it as a given that he should have it. Aziraphale's lips and tongue also do something to him, and in minutes he's coming again, Aziraphale swallowing him down easily and licking him clean.

Crowley has not pulled himself back together by the time Aziraphale gets off his knees and sits on the sofa next to Crowley. He guides Crowley down until Crowley is lying on his sofa with his head in Aziraphale's lap, so he can play with Crowley's hair while Crowley gets his shit back together.

"Huh," Crowley says.

"Did you like that, dear?" Aziraphale asks, his nails scratching pleasantly across Crowley's scalp.

"Fuck's sake, angel," Crowley says, because the question is too big for him to handle.

Aziraphale holds out a hand, and his glass of riesling appears in it. He takes a sip, like he's considering what to say and stalling for time. "I thought it was very enjoyable," he says. "But if you didn't like it, then I'm not going to do it again."

"I came down your throat," Crowley says. "Twice."

"And that does point to one interpretation," Aziraphale says.

Crowley sighs, because he's not getting out of this one. "I thought it was amazing," he admits. "No one else would do that for me."

"Oh, I doubt that," Aziraphale says. "Unfortunately for them, they're not going to get a chance."

"It really doesn't bother you?" Crowley says.

"Would that you having two penises was the strangest thing to happen to me," Aziraphale says with a sigh.

"Point taken," Crowley says. He turns towards Aziraphale, and Aziraphale's fly opens seemingly on its own. "At least let me return the favor."

"I just have the one," Aziraphale says, but he doesn't complain when Crowley wraps his mouth around it.

\--

"I think the way this has to happen," Aziraphale says a few nights later, sounding very put together for someone completely naked, "is that you need to lie on your back, and I need to sit side-saddle on you."

"Whatever you like, angel," Crowley says, already sprawled on the bed. He's feeling magnanimous, considering Aziraphale just brought him off very effectively with his mouth and hands. The theory was that it would make it less likely for Crowley to go off immediately when they finally got to the act; Crowley has his doubts, but he didn't argue with a free blowjob.

"Which one first," Aziraphale says, looking at Crowley's cocks critically; they are both standing at attention again, Crowley greedy for it already even though Aziraphale just brought him off. 

"Just wing it," Crowley suggests.

"Ha," Aziraphale says. He looks resolved. "Alright. Hold still."

Crowley doesn't move as Aziraphale comes towards him. He kneels to one side of Crowley's body, so he can back into the whole situation. That is indeed what he does, and Crowley bites his lip hard as one of his cocks finds Aziraphale's ass, slicked up and stretched for him. Aziraphale holds it still so he can push down onto it, and then Crowley is inside him, his body enveloping Crowley's. 

"That's one," Aziraphale says; Crowley doesn't say anything, still trying to get accustomed to the sensation, the heat of Aziraphale around him. "Now for the second."

Crowley doesn't find something clever to say before Aziraphale takes his other cock in hand. The head of it slides against the folds of Aziraphale's cunt for a moment, and Crowley gasps at the feeling, the softness of it.

"How are you, my dear?" Aziraphale asks.

"Don't stop," Crowley says, unable to say anything else.

Aziraphale adjusts, then adjusts again, then Crowley's second cock is sliding in. It's so tight and so wet and Crowley can't do anything at all, at Aziraphale's mercy as Aziraphale just has him, takes him completely. 

"Oh," Aziraphale breathes, rocking experimentally against Crowley, and Crowley cries out, hand fisting in the sheets. "Oh, that's really something." Aziraphale cups Crowley's cheek. "Are you alright, darling?"

Crowley has no idea how to answer that question. He's never felt like this before; the pressure and the heat are amazing, Aziraphale's body yielding for his so perfectly. He wonders if Aziraphale has always felt like this when he fucks Crowley, like they're made to interlock, intended for each other. Of course, that's not exactly like this. He's filling Aziraphale twice over, something nobody else will ever be able to do for him. Only Crowley will ever get this, and he wants to hoard it jealously, or maybe erect a billboard to brag about it.

"Oh, fuck," Crowley says eloquently.

"Mmm, yes, I think so," Aziraphale says, and he starts to move with intent. 

Crowley is overwhelmed basically instantly. Aziraphale feels too good, and he can feel _himself_, his cocks pressing together through Aziraphale's body. Aziraphale's riding him back and forth, his cocks pushing in one and then the other, over and over again. Aziraphale isn't being quiet, either, not that Aziraphale has ever once been stoic in bed. Instead he keeps making these intoxicating noises, like it's too good to keep quiet.

"Crowley, dearest," Aziraphale says. "Oh, Crowley, you feel so good inside me." Aziraphale isn't great at dirty talk, which makes it better for Crowley, knowing he's only doing it because Crowley likes to hear it. "I wish we'd done this ages ago. You were made to fill me up."

"Angel," Crowley says, because he couldn't string two words together for love or money. The slick heat of Aziraphale's cunt, the tight grip of his ass, all of it is undoing Crowley entirely. Aziraphale is stuffed full of him, everything that Crowley has to give, but Crowley's the one who feels like he might burst, flame away to nothing.

He's seeing Aziraphale in profile, and the light from overhead hits him just so, scattering in his hair and making him look even more angelic. Crowley always thinks he looks stunning, but this is something else, something more. The pleasure on his face is without compare; Crowley wants to pack it away, catalogue it, because he's going to be thinking about Aziraphale like this forever.

"I won't last," Aziraphale says, his breathing labored, and Crowley would make a quip about it if he had the brain cells available, or maybe just commiserate.

"Yeah," Crowley says instead. He can reach well enough to slip his hand between Aziraphale's thighs, running along the place where they join for a moment before moving up to his clit. Aziraphale sucks in a breath, moving faster. Crowley knows what that sound means, so he keeps his fingers moving, quick circles on Aziraphale's clit as Aziraphale rides him for all he's worth. Crowley's not going to last either, but he's so desperate to feel it, what it will be like to finally feel Aziraphale everywhere.

Aziraphale makes a beautiful sound, ruined and utterly gorgeous, and Crowley feels him coming, his body clenching in waves around Crowley's cocks. Crowley doesn't last another instant; the previous times, it's been sequential, one and then the other, but he goes off all at once, both of his cocks releasing into Aziraphale. It's easily the most intense orgasm he's ever had, like he's coming with his entire body. He grabs onto Aziraphale's thigh, needing something, some support, some grounding, and Aziraphale fumbles for his hand, lacing their fingers together as they both ride it out.

"Goodness," Aziraphale says, when he's capable of saying anything.

"Come here," Crowley says, holding out his arms, and Aziraphale dismounts so that he can crawl into them. The only bad thing about the position is that there wasn't much touching; that's something to consider when they do this again.

Crowley desperately hopes Aziraphale wants to do this again. It was, however, Aziraphale's idea, so it's highly likely.

"That was superb, my dear," Aziraphale says; he kisses Crowley's tattoo, like he does when he's feeling playful. Crowley mostly feels fucked out, but it's cute anyway. "I do hope you liked it."

"You are a wonder, angel," Crowley says.

"You're quite splendid yourself," Aziraphale says, and Crowley kisses the smile off his face. "Now, what shall we do next?"

"Take a nap," Crowley says, because this is almost always what he wants to do after sex, particularly after good sex.

"I didn't mean right now," Aziraphale says. "With you, I mean. There are so many options."

"There are?" Crowley says, a little baffled.

"Oh, scores of them," Aziraphale says. "One must only use one's imagination."

"Let me sleep on it," Crowley says, shutting his eyes, because it's a little too much to take in, Aziraphale's casual certainty, his consideration. Aziraphale huffs, but he kisses each of Crowley's eyelids ever so gently, lighter than a feather.

Crowley doesn't actually fall asleep, but it's immaterial. He can feel Aziraphale next to him, the way his breathing levels out, his hand brushing Crowley's chest, his shoulder, his thigh. Crowley wouldn't dare stop him, doesn't do anything but enjoy the touch.

Perhaps he will get a little sleep after all. He's in very good hands.


End file.
